'Ello, dear ones!

I'm sorry if this chapter totally depresses you :( Really, I am. But before you lash out, you should know that good things ARE coming…soon.

Also, thank you for the reviews/faves/follows so far! Keep 'em comin'! ;)

Disclaimer: SC owns HG not me...

Prim.
My mother.
And all of Peeta's family.
Peacekeepers stand before them.
Guns in their hands.

I hear a muffled noise from Peeta; it is stifled by the fabric tied around his mouth. Again, he tries to yell something, and I can hear the desperation in his tone, the hopelessness.

My body is completely numb. I'm paralyzed. Everything is happening in slow motion. My mind is racing, but the world around me is inching by, unreal. None of this is real. I'm in another dream-vision. Not real.

Not real.
Not real.

I shake my head. Nothing changes.
I move to pinch myself, but instead, I feel a sharp twinge of pain pulse up my wrist as the binding that is holding my hands together digs into my skin.

Pain. I can feel physical pain. That must mean this is real. But I can't feel anything else, not until my eyes settle on a bound and gagged and helpless Prim.

The sight of her causes a fiery pain to shoot through my chest. And suddenly, everything catches up with me.
I hear Peeta's sobs next to me.
I smell sweat and I taste the salt from my skin.

I feel something pounding in my eardrums... the sound of my own heart.

"Prim," I croak through the fabric pressed across my mouth. I try again, "Prim!" I yell in a muffled voice that does not sound like mine, the voice of someone breaking into a million pieces. Then, the fire in my chest builds and begins to consume me.

I start to fight against the forces holding me back: the ropes, chains, bindings, and the gag. My teeth tear at the fabric, and I'm somehow able to move it off my mouth.

"Mom! Prim!" I shout. Then, almost involuntarily, I yell the most important thing I can think of, "I love you!"

I begin weeping loudly, but no one comes to shut me up. Then, I think of Peeta as he continues to sob next to me. He is still unable to speak through the fabric on his mouth, so I speak up for him, "We both love all of you!" I say, turning to take in the four people standing beside my mother and Prim to my left, each of them paralyzed with fear. I never really got to know any of them because Mrs. Mellark complicated things so much, but now, at the end of it all, I feel that I know and love each of them because Peeta does, even Mrs. Mellark; it seems so silly to hold a grudge now.

My eyes drift back to Prim; I don't know if she knows where she is or what's about to happen, but I can see the rapid rising and falling of my little sister's chest. She is terrified, but I can't save my family this time. My legs finally stop working, and I fall to the ground.

Without thinking, I do the only thing I can think of to calm her down: I close my eyes and I sing.
I sing like I have done so many times before. Like those times when I had to scare the nightmares away, to sooth the grief from our father's passing, to ease the pain of a scraped knee, to fill the spaces of an empty stomach...

I hear guns click, but I refuse to open my eyes. I keep singing. I keep reliving every previous memory I have had with my family, and I sing them out through my song. Every word is filled with love.

Other voices are singing along, and I begin to doubt my sanity once again, but I keep singing.

A few moments later, it hits me. They aren't people's voices. These voices belong to birds, to mockingjays, like the one on my gold pin. Still, I don't open my eyes; I just keep singing...

"Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm..."

The voices have stopped. Once again, it's just my own voice. I guess the mockingjays are listening to me sing, just like they used to do with my father.

"Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I—"

Six shots—one after another—ring out, followed by six thuds. I flinch after each one. By the final shot, I feel removed from the present, far away from my reality, from death and pain and fear.

"...love you," I finish.

I have no more songs to sing, no more tears to shed. It's over. They are gone. Just like my father.

Even though it feels like a million years have passed—so much has changed so quickly—the whole thing only lasted a few minutes. It's funny how it only takes a few minutes to move from life into death. It's so simple, so easy...

I feel myself being lifted and untied from the post, but I don't register what's happening. I don't care what's happening. Nothing matters now. The people I love are dead, lying in their own blood, and I couldn't do anything to save them.

I feel something poking my back. It's a gun. I keep moving my legs forward, sometimes stumbling because of the numbness in my body. Soon we stop, and I take in my surroundings: I am standing in the hallway of the same prison that I spent the night in last night. Muffled voices fight for my recognition, and I try to refuse them, but one demands entry. It's familiar but out-of-place.

"Katniss! Listen to me!" I am finally able to distinguish the voice that is shouting at me. It's Darius, the Peackeeper. My thoughts are coherent enough to recognize the strangeness of this encounter. I decide to try and care for a few minutes, so I can hear whatever he is trying to say; it must be important. My eyes connect with Darius', ready to hear him.

"Listen, you have to get out of here. It's not safe for you anymore," he says urgently. At the same time, he is cutting the fabric from my face and the binding from my hands. "If you take the door at the end of the hallway and turn right, you'll find the emergency exit. It'll open up behind the Justice building. I've disabled the alarms, so that should buy you some time but not much. You need to get deep into the forest," he explains as he moves to free Peeta as well.

Peeta.
I'm not alone. Peeta is still here. We still have each other.

And Gale... Gale is still alive. He probably has no idea any of this happened, and he won't get home for several hours. We won't have time to get him from the mines; we won't even have time to tell Hazelle what's going on. They already told me that they won't come without Gale, so there's no point in trying.

The realization that people I love are still alive and depending on me forces a sudden bolt of energy and adrenaline to wake me from my paralysis. I listen carefully to Darius' instructions as he continues.

"Head north toward District 13. I know this is a lot to take in, but trust me... Thirteen survived the bombings. They have been notified of your situation and will be awaiting your arrival. They are trying to infiltrate the other Districts with rebels to promote uprisings and open rebellion against the Capitol," he says.

"What?! It's true? Thirteen is really alive?" Peeta asks incredulously. Like me, he has obviously regained his composure enough to focus. We both realize that, right now, we must press on. We will no doubt have enough time to grieve later.

"Yes. Haymitch Abernathy and I are some of District 13's correspondents in Twelve. Something big is about to happen, and I think you both may have a part to play in this before the end. There's no time for more questions. Get to Thirteen and they will tell you whatever you want to know," he finishes, pushing us toward the door. "Now go! Hurry!"

At his words, I take everything that has happened in the last half hour and push it aside as if it never even happened. I watch as Peeta realizes he must do the same. His eyes, though sad and tired, narrow in determination. We both lock eyes for a moment, and then we begin to run for the woods, for freedom.